


Breathing

by Antiopa



Category: Original Work
Genre: Horror, Intentional change of tense, Main character's gender is not specified, inspired by a true story, unnamed main character - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:27:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27284167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antiopa/pseuds/Antiopa
Summary: You’ve never believed in ghosts. Never worried about “evil spirits” or shit like that, never had a hard time being home alone at night. Sure, sometimes you’ll wake up to a sound in the middle of the night, and for a split second you’ll be terrified that you forgot to lock the front door, and that someone’s broken in. Concrete, tangible fears, with a logical explanation and a logical eventual series of events. You’re just a logical person; that's how both adults and your friends describe you.





	Breathing

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Andetag](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26424652) by [Antiopa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antiopa/pseuds/Antiopa). 



> Told y'all I would translate this shit

You’ve never believed in ghosts. Never worried about “evil spirits” or shit like that, never had a hard time being home alone at night. Sure, sometimes you’ll wake up to a sound in the middle of the night, and for a split second you’ll be terrified that you forgot to lock the front door, and that someone’s broken in. Concrete, tangible fears, with a logical explanation and a logical eventual series of events. You’re just a logical person; that's how both adults and your friends describe you.

You and your friends were up late tonight, cramped together on two thin foam rubber mattresses on the floor of Vilda’s tiny little room down in the basement. You talked about tomorrow’s trip to the beach, and how nice it would be to get some reprieve from the June heat, which somehow lead to talking about Vilda’s love problems. You ended up talking some pretty serious shit about Alexander, Vilda’s “kind of boyfriend but we’re not really dating like that, but he treats me like his girlfriend but he also keeps fucking like twenty other girls every week”. Yeah, there’s quite a lot to say about _Alex_ , as his friends like to call him. You spent several hours just ranting about how stupid he is that he doesn’t realise how good Vilda would be for him if he just pulled his head out of his ass, and how Vilda needs to immediately break all contact with him so she could “focus on taking care of yourself and stop dealing with all of his shit!” (Ellen’s words, not yours).

You were mostly sat just listening, chiming in with a small comment here and there to not seem like you didn’t care or agree with what was being said. In reality you don’t have any actual problems with Alexander; You have Psychology together two hours a week, and he’s actually really smart. He also always offers you a sip of Red Bull when he brings a can to class, and a cigarette during the break after. He’s not one of your closest friends, but he’s nice to hang out with once in a while, and you’ve had a number of really nice conversations when you’ve both been halfway to alcohol poisoning at some sweaty frat party that you both managed to sneak into.

When the clock had passed two in the morning you could barely keep your eyes open anymore. You sat leaning partially against the wall that the thin matress you had been given as a place to sleep on was lying next to, and Olivia had already fallen asleep with her head on your shoulder. The rest of you decided to stop talking about Alexander and try to get some sleep. Ellen managed to wake Olivia up and get her to lie down on the right matress, that the two of them would be sharing. You pulled off your sweatpants and unhooked your bra without taking off your t-shirt, and crawled into your own bed. Alva, who would be sleeping next to Vilda in the bed, went to the microscopical little bathroom that was just outside the room, but quickly returned and climbed into the bed that stood on the opposite side of the room, with the footboard pointing towards you. _Top to tail_ , your exhausted brain thought slowly.

“Goodnight”, Ellen mumbled to your right.

“Goodnight”, Alva answered, and turned off the light.

The room immediately turns pitch black. The lights in Vilda’s room are terrible, but the contrast is still staggering, as her room only has one tiny little window up by the ceiling, that now, in the middle of the night, doesn’t even have any light to let in. You’re lying on your side, facing the wall that you’d been leaning on earlier. There’s maybe a foot and a half between you and the wall, but you still can’t see it in front of you. The room is completely pitch black. There is nothing to see, nothing to hear except the others’ slow and steady breathing, nothing to feel except the thin mattress underneath you, and the empty sheet you’re using as a comforter.

But then… Then there’s something else. Small puffs of air fanning across your face, too steady to be a draft. Too _warm_ to be even a lukewarm summer breeze that’s found it’s way in through a crack in the foundation of the house. You think that it might just be your own breaths that you feel, that are reflecting off the wall and coming back in some way, so you hold your breath. The puffs continue with the same steady pace, if a little bit faster, a little bit harder.

Suddenly, you’re filled with complete certainty, that if you tried to touch the wall that you know is just a couple of inches away, you wouldn’t be able to. Something, _someone_ , would stop you. You realise that you’re still holding your breath, and let the used air out through your nose in a quiet sigh. The puffs stop for a short moment, but when they return they’re even faster than before. Now, the air fanning across your cheeks feels almost wet. _It’s just a draft_ , you think, trying to ignore the fact that you just deemed that impossible. _Just the wind. Pull yourself together and sleep, for fucks sake._ The irritation towards yourself pops the bubble of fear that had formed around your common sense, and you turn around so your back is against the wall and you’re closer to the other matress, and pull the sheet over your head ~~to not feel the puffs against your neck~~ to be able to fall asleep faster. It works, and you fall asleep almost immediately to the steady rythm of breathing in the room.

In the morning, you’re woken up by the sun having managed to climb high enough in the sky to shine right through Vilda’s curtainless only window and hit you right in the face. Ellen is already awake, and together you wake your remaining three friends, since you’re both aware of just how long the other’s can sleep if you let them, and you want to get to the beack before the sun goes down again, for fucks sake, Olivia, get your ass out of bed. You go up to the kitchen in your pyjamas (“why put on clothes when we’re just going to change later anyways?”), and you absentmindedly notice that everyone seems to have slept fine, excpet for Alva. While you and the others are joking around while making sandwitches like your lives depend on it, Alva is strangely quiet. She’s normally the one with the most energy in the mornings, regardless of how many hours she’s slept, if she’s even slept at all. When you’re all seated around the sturdy kitchen table, you ask how she’s doing.

“It’s fine, I’m okay”, she says, smiling to convinse you. Her smile is real, that you can see, but there is still something in her eyes. “I just… I don’t know. I think I had sleep paralysis or something last night.”

Immediately, everyone’s attention is on Alva.

“Oh my God! What happened?” Ellen asks worriedly, putting her jam sandwich down to really show that she’s listening. _No butter_ , you think to yourself. _Drier than that you’ll have to search for_.

“I mean, it wasn’t that bad. It was just for like, ten seconds or something before I managed to move and close my eyes and stuff, but I… I saw something. Standing beside the bed. A man, kind of, I don’t know.” She stares down into her glass of chocolate milk, where small bubbles of undissolved powder are swimming around in the milk. “But it wasn’t a human. It had, like, the body of a human, but with really long arms and fingers. And tiny black eyes, but a huge mouth. And, too many teeth. Like one of those deep sea fish, kind of.”

Ellen exclaims hos disgusting it sounds, and Olivia has moved so that she’s sitiing right next to Alva to somehow make her feel safer. Vilda, on the other hand, has just turned paler and paler with every detail that Alva has described.

“He was smiling. Right?”

Vilda’s speaks quietly and monotonously, with her gaze fixated on Alva.

“Yes, it was. Why?”

“And his hands were black. Like he’s dipped them in oil, kind of. Right?”

Alva has turned pale too, and Ellen is turning her head back and forth between your two friends.

“Stop it! What the fuck?” She sounds nervous, on the verge of scared. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

No one answers her. “Yes”, Alva says, slowly. “He had.”

“Okay. I’ve been seeing the same man for several years. Not as of late, though, but I guess all the stress of last night kind of lured him out again.”

Now, Ellen is looking completely terrified. “What the fuck?” is the only thing she manages to whimper.

“Okay, for real. Is this a joke? Are you fucking with us? Did you plan this?” Olivia says, uncomfortable with seeing Ellen so scared. Alva turns intense eyes on her, and it feels like the air is charged with electricity.

“I promise you, this is not a joke. I swear to _God_.” You’ve never before heard Alva, who is a devout Christian, use God’s name in vain before. It’s clear that what she’s saying is a hundred percent true. You look down at your own half eaten jam sandwich (with butter), and pick it up to eat it before it becomes cold.

“What the _fuck_? Alright. Okay”, Olivia says, clearly shaken. She turns to Vilda. “Is he dangerous or something? Has he done anything before?”

“No, no, no. Or, I mean, he’s never done anything to me physically. Just come, like, really fucking close, I guess to scare me. The only thing I’ve felt is that he’s been, like, breathing in my face.”

Reflexively, you swallow the piece of your sandwich that you’ve been chewing on, and the toasted bread scrapes the sides of your esophagus on the way down. Your heart follows. You slowly put down the remains of your sandwich on your plate. You’re not hungry anymore. You lift your gaze to Alva, and see that she’s already staring at you. You see that she understands, and she takes a deep breath. You start talking before she can say your name.

“There was someone breathing on me yesterday. When we were going to sleep. There was some space left between me and the wall”, you use your hand to show a space where there technically, if that person was laying with their back against the wall and their face extremely close to yours, could be enough space for another person. “And I couldn’t touch it. The wall, I mean. Or, I didn’t try, but I, like, kind of knew that it wouldn’t work.”

You look up at the others, who are looking at you with huge, terrified eyes, but no one looks like they want to say anything, so you continue. “I thought it was a draft at first, but it was to regular. And it was… The air was warm. And it wasn’t my own breathing because I tried holding my breath and the puffs still continued.”

The others are still looking at you with fear in their eyes. Unexpectedly, Ellen is the first one to say something.

“But… What did you do?”

“I… Turned around and pulled the blanket over my head. Then I fell asleep, like, immediately after.” The answer feels stupid, like you should have come up with something more interesting, like the breathing turning into a wheezing laugh, anything. Nevertheless, Ellen looks fascinated.

“You fell alseep. For real.” Then she starts laughing, a slightly panicked laugh, yes, but you can still hear that it’s genuine. “Who the fuck are you? I would’ve shit myself but you just,” she takes a break to catch her breath, still laughing. “You _fall asleep_?! What the fuck.”

Ellen’s laughter is the catalyst, and you see how the fear lets go of the others, and they join in on the laughter, if a bit subdued. You also feel a lot better, and the hunger returns. You take a bite out of your sandwich, and it’s still a bit lukewarm.

After breakfast you change into swimwear, and after that you head for the sea by bike along the gravel road. Vilda’s family owns four adult-sized bikes of varying quality, and one childrens bike that Olivia, after a brutal game of rock-paper-scissors between her and Alva, has the misfortune of having to ride. You bring with you lunch consisting of cheese sandwiches and chocolate milk in a water bottle, so you don’t return home until around seven in the afternoon. Vilda’s parents serve smoked prawns and crayfish, as well as homemade aioli, and you eat until you’re almost comatose. You fall asleep by half past nine, without any worry about warm, way too even puffs of air.

The rest of the time at Vilda’s house is spent in a similar way; You bike, swim, talk shit and drink chocolate milk. On the train back to Stockholm you don’t discuss any nightly creatures with too many teeth and warm breaths, only how incredible it will be to finally sleep in actual beds after spending five nights on Vilda’s pathetic little foam rubber mattresses (Alva is not allowed to parttake in this discussion). Your dad picks you up at the station, and not even when you get home and your parents ask you what you’ve been doing, the thought of the creature in the room crosses your mind.

You think about it first when you’ve put your phone away for the night, when you’ve turned off the light and the room has been drenched in pitch black, when you’ve settled in with your back against the open room, and you feel warm, wet, erratic puffs of air against the nape of your neck.


End file.
